The New Deal
by damonandelenaforthewin
Summary: my version of where the last Delena scene will pick up in the next episode after the hiatus.
1. Surviving

Elena's eyes panned down as Damon walked away from her, his body language still tense with the dissapointment and rage from the night's events. She could see his muscles, still coiled like a pretador's, ready to strike out at whatever came at him next. The fire still crackled from the alcohol and broken glass shards from his fit just moments earlier. Elena didn't like seeing him like this; of all the things wrong in her life- utterly messed up and terrible in her life- nothing made her uneasy like seeing Damon out of his normal, devil-may-care attitude.

He picked up another bottle of bourbon, this time drinking it instead of throwing it. His eyes were shy to look at hers, his neck still burning where her fingertips had caressed him in a manner too intimate for what their relationship- brother and borther's girlfriend- was supposed to be. He felt himself reinging his impulses in- his impulse to kill, his impulse to destroy Klaus even if it meant destroying everything else in the process, and suddenly, even stronger than usual, his impulse to take Elena into his arms and make her his. To whisper that everything would be alright, words that needed to be said just as much for himself as for her, the impulse to show his love how he felt it, hot and burning in his chest, more passionate and selfless than he'd ever loved anything else.

"I don't know what we're going to do," Damon muttered weakly, slowing down his alcholic intake, so that he was just sipping at his glass. He really needed to stop swinging glasses- there weren't going to be any left, pretty soon.

Elena crossed the room, carefully but quickly, until she was back beside him. "We'll figure it out, Damon. It's not the first time our plans have failed. We try again, that's what we do." Her fingers twitched, an involuntary urge to touch Damon, the same urge that had made her close the distance between them again, lay submerged in her body. She had to admit it- being close to him was what was making her feel better. Where she was drawing her strength from, the courage to speak the words she had no idea how to back up.

"Besides," She continued, trying to force a glib tone into her voice, "Right now i'm an asset to Klaus. So he won't be looking to hurt me anytime soon. Surely we can use that to our advantage...like protection. Like when we made the deal with Elijah."

Damon made a small noise of disagreement. "Do you remember how well that worked out? Because it included Elijah calling your bluff and you fileting yourself."

Elena's eyes clouded over, a small worry line appearing over her brow, but then her look of determination returned, like a spark had been lit inside her.

"That was a sacrifice i was willing to make, Damon, to protect us all. And now, after what you tried to do, what we all-" Elena paused, letting the implications of their actions sink into the silence; they both could imagine the revenge that Klaus would most certainly try to take on Damon and their circle of friends for attemtping to kill him, and daggering Rebekah. "What i'm saying is, if i have to use my life as a bargaining chip again, then i will. If that's what will keep you safe, then i'll do it." Her gaze was cool and confident; this was not a statement up for debate, as far as she was concerned. It was just the fact of the matter.

Damon's hands shot up, grabbing ahold of her arms, his grip a little too tight, his face a mask of anger and pain once again.

"Damon, what are you- "

"What about me, Elena? What if that's not a sacrifice i'm willing to make? I'm not going to let you kill yourself in some half-assed attempt to save someone who's not worth saving. I'm protecting _you_, remember? You. Are not. A bargaining chip." With that, Damon let go of her arms, and stalked up to his bedroom, leaving Elena in the parlour, pensive and concerned.

Clearly, Damon was on the verge of snapping. Clearly, Elena needed to be the sensible one in this situation. But clearly, both parties were severly underestimating Elena's temper, because with only a few seconds' hesitation, she was right behind Damon, slamming the door to his bedroom shut. He turned to face her.

"What am i, then, Damon? If i'm not a bargaining chip to you, then what am I?" Elena demanded, her arms crossed against her chest, a very Elena-like fashion. "Everyone else can do whatever it takes to save us but me. We've gone through this before, that my life is my decision. So what i am that's so important? What makes me something no one will risk? I'm not better than anyone else as far as i can tell. So enlighten me."

Damon looked her in the eyes, his anger depeleted. "You know what you are to me. I've said it before."

Elena bit her lip, weighing the outcomes of the consequences of the words she would say next. She took the leap. "Say it again."

Damon didn't skip a beat. "You're the woman i love." He took a step close, and then another. "You're one of the only things out of my entire existence that i've ever loved." He was almost touching her. "In fact, you're the only person i've ever loved...like this." His hand reached up, running his finger through her hair, with a gentleness only Elena knew could be associated with Damon. Her eyes gazed into his and her lips subconciously parted.

"I can't lose you. I will die before i lose you," He whipsered breathily, and Elena thought she saw his eyes moisten, just a little.

Her head cocked to the side, as she stared into what she knew was Damon's soul, and her hand clasped his, holding it. "I can't lose you, either, Damon."

And before either of them knew it, they were entwined, all the passion and sorrow of their night relased into their kiss, as they fell onto Damon's bed together. And for a second, just a second, as Damon pulled off her shirt and pulled her to him, She remembered her own words, that seemed more like echos- as if she has said them months ago and not mere minutes.

_ "Then we'll let him go, okay? We'll have to let him go." _

And in that moment, Elena let Stefan go. And she was finally happy.


	2. Fallout

The next morning Elena awoke, still entwined in Damon's arms, both of them long since having lost their clothes. She lay, half awake, half not, enjoying the moment as if in a dream- the warmth of Damon beneath her, the hard plans of his stomach, the rise and fall of his chest...

Slowly, not wanting to wake him up, she climbed off and out of the bed, pulling on her clothes and slipping out of hi bedroom. She was almost to the door of the boarding house when- _flash_- in vampiric fashion, Damon was right in front of her, blocking her exit.

"Leaving so soon? I'm starting to think my little Katherine comment wasn't so far off the mark," Damon quipped, his voice clipped and sarcastic. She was not dealing with the Damon from last night- this was a scorned Damon. He was hurt she was leaving.

"Damon." And that was all she had to say. He could hear in her voice what she was feeling, as if her eyes hadn't already betrayed enough.

"You regret what we did. You're ashamed of it." He laid the truth out on the table, sick of wanton looks and fleeting touches. She could say she couldn't loose him and she could spend the night in his bed, but in the morning light she couldn't bare to wake up to him. Why was he still surprised? No one ever wanted him.

"No." Elena's reply was firm as she shook her head in disagreement. "I'm not ashamed of being with you Damon. I just..."

"You just what?" Damon spat, getting in her face. "You just wanted a quick lay? St. Stefan hasn't been around to fix the itch you can't scratch, so one roll in the hay with everyone's second choice should do the trick?" He knew he sounded vulgar and he knew he was going to wish later on that he hadn't said those words, but damn it, he was angry. And living on the edge wasn't helping.

Elena shook her head at him in disgust. "I'm not you, Damon. I don't use people when they're conveniant. And I'm certainly not Katherine. It's just a little hard to admit to yourself you've fallen in love with and then _slept_ with your demented ex-boyfriend's even _more_ demented brother."

"Ahem."

The quarrelling duo turned to look at the source of the intrusion.

Alaric had his hand around the back of his neck, an uneasy expression revealing that he'd heard everything they'd said to each other. "You really need to learn to lock your front door."


End file.
